The Fallen Prince
by Jean Hicks
Summary: Loki, disgraced and mutilated, is the fallen prince of Asgard exiled to float forever among the worlds he destroyed. By chance, he lands in a Midgardian dystopia with no more heroes and no more hope. Will he find redemption? Or will the villain always be the villain? AU, Rated T for violence, R&R please, my first Avengers-verse fic. Thanks!
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** Let me start out by saying that the Avengers universe is a completely new world for me. Loved the movie, loved everything else Marvel, but I've never tried writing it. I'm particularly enthralled with Loki. What follows is Loki's redemption. As AU as AU can get, but I think it may have potential. Let me know if there's any improvements to be made? Yes, I've included an original character (also a first for me), but I will try not to make her too annoying. Rated T for violence and potential disturbing themes. Read, review, and enjoy!

* * *

The crowds that had gathered were roaring. The All-Father sat upon his throne, golden staff clutched in his hand and stern look upon his face. At his right hand stood his son, Thor, proud and tall with his long blonde hair tied elegantly behind his shoulders. His face was impassive, and he tried not to be distracted by the body crumpled on the floor of the throne room. It would be unbecoming for the future king of Asgard to look upon an enemy such as this, even if the enemy were his brother.

On the floor, in a mass of green and gold, Loki Laufeyson trembled. His eyes cast upward, burning with fire as he stared at the All-Father. His hair hung limply around his sharp, pale face. His cheek was bleeding and his eye was bruised, exaggerating the golden green iris. He watched as the All-Father stood and the hall fell into a preternatural quiet. "Loki Laufeyson, you have been called before the citizens of Asgard to account for your crimes against the residents of Midgard. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Loki opened his mouth to speak but Odin cut across his speech with a booming voice. "I think you've had enough speaking, Laufeyson. Your silver tongue won't hold power in the halls of Asgard any longer. In fact, I say you will never speak your lies again." The hall cheered. Loki's eyes widened as fear coursed through him. He raised himself to his knees and tried to hide his trembling.

"All-Father…" His breath was a whisper against the hall of cheering citizens.

"Silence!" Odin thundered. "I, Odin All-Father, sentence you to banishment from the kingdom of Asgard, cast forever to float among the worlds you were so intent upon destroying. Moreover, I command your mouth be sewn shut as a testament to your lying tongue, ensuring you never speak a falsehood again." Loki gasped and the crowd grew quiet again.

"Please…" Loki pleaded.

"The time for pleading is over, as is the time for pity. You will find no warmth in the halls of Asgard this day, Laufeyson." Odin stepped back, allowing two men in dress regalia to step forward. "Seize him, and sew him shut."

"No!" The scream echoed around the hallway. The men in gold grabbed Loki's arms and legs, holding him rigid against the floor. A third man approached holding a silver needle and thread. "At least do your own bidding, All-Father," Loki spat at last. "After all, the man who gives the sentence should swing the sword." He turned his pleading eyes to his brother. "Please, Brother-mine, have pity on me. I will do no more of this. Please, tell him to stop…" His hand tried to grasp the floor, reaching toward Thor with all the strength he had.

"I will hear no more of this!" The older god bellowed back. "Silence him!" Thor swallowed visibly.

"Brother!" Loki screamed again. "Please…"

The man who held the needle straddled Loki's prone body. The god thrashed and screamed, until the man with the needle grabbed his chin in his hand and held it still. The tip of the needle glinted in the golden halls. The crowd was silent, and Loki's breathing was heavy. He struggled feebly now, worn out against the three men. The needle descended and Loki tensed. He tried to roll his lips inward, but the man pushed them outward and drove the needle through the bottom lip.

Loki howled in agony as the rough thread tore through the pinhole becoming streaked with crimson. A rivulet of blood ran down Loki's chin and he thrashed, his arms grasping at the tile floor. The needle pierced his upper lip and he howled again, tasted blood. Lower lip, and the thread was pulled taut enough to clamp his lips together so that when he tried to scream the thread pulled at the holes. He twisted and felt a fresh wave of blood on his chin.

His eyes were knotted in agony. Three new stitches across his lips and he was howling through the bonds. The hand which held his chin was slick with blood, but it held firm as it drove each stitch through Loki's thin pale lips. Odin watched from his throne with a passive face. Several individuals gathered in the audience had turned their faces away from the scene but their king and prince kept their eyes fixed on this disgraced son of Asgard.

When the process was over, the guards released Loki and he curled upon himself on the floor. Blood pooled beneath his chin and his mouth was sewn grotesquely shut with the rough thread. His swollen lips strained against the bonds leaving his once delicate mouth looking too much like a loin of pork tied for roasting. He trembled and moaned in torment as he turned his eyes towards the All-Father. Odin raised his hand, "Observe, Asgardians, the price that is paid for treachery."

The crowd cheered, and they kept cheering until Odin tapped his staff on the tile. "Remove him from this hall." He waved his hands and the men who had restrained Loki grasped his arms and legs and began to march him out of the hall. He trembled violently as they marched, eyes ghosting from the pain of his punishment. They marched him down along the road to the edge of the falls. He watched the glass sparkle beneath him.

Odin had followed, as well as Thor. Heimdall stood at the edge of the ruined road. "You intend to exile him, again." The man said in his deep timbre. Odin nodded. The guards dropped Loki with a thump onto the road. He moaned through sealed lips. "This is cruel punishment, even for you, All-Father."

"I did not ask your opinion on these matters, Heimdall. Loki is my responsibility and I will do with him as I see fit. I have declared he be cast away, never again to harm Asgard or its people." Odin had stepped off to the side, leaving Thor looking over his brother's prostrate body. The blonde god bent down and brushed a strand of hair damp with sweat away from his forehead. Loki flinched and Thor shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Brother." He whispered. Loki turned away from the touch, unable to speak or scream.

Odin returned shortly and pulled upon Loki's arms. He motioned for his son to grab Loki's legs. The god thrashed, struggled, and cried out, pulling on the stitches in his mouth. "Now, Loki Laufeyson, I cast you from this realm forever." He walked the flailing god to the edges of the road. "I revoke of you your title and your place in the palace of Asgard. I revoke of you your right as my son." With each statement he swung Loki's body towards the falls. "I revoke of you your home, and place you eternally among the worlds you seek to destroy."

The third statement swung Loki high into the air and he felt the hands of the Asgardian's release him. He flailed in the air like a fish out of water and then he felt the world fall out from beneath him. He felt the pull in his stomach. He watched the glass road leave his vision. He twisted his body and watched the stars sprawling below him as he fell, screaming in agony the entire way.

* * *

She walked along the alley between work and her flat, head down against the wind and hands shoved into her pocket. The sky cracked, a nod toward the storm that was building in the east. She looked up and appraised the sky that was darkening with the setting sun. She noted that the alley smelled of piss. The sky cracked again and then there was a brilliant flash. She cowered from it on instinct, but she had time to realize that the flash lasted too long to be lightening. When the light had disappeared, she found herself disoriented and blinking rapidly. She started walking again and stumbled over something blocking her way.

"Hell…" She whispered, looking down at the ground before her. There was a man there that hadn't been before, wrapped in gold and green and whimpering. He was nothing more than a pile of limbs and cloth and pale skin. "What are you doing out here dressed like that?" She said with a gasp. "They'll kill you if they find you out here dressed like that." More panicked now, she glanced behind her. "They'll kill me if they find me out here with you. It's about curfew…"" She worried with her watch for a moment, waiting for the man to speak. When he didn't speak, she continued. "Look, I don't know what you're on about, but you're putting us both in terrible danger."

Finally the lump moved and gazed up at her, eyes shining. His lips were swollen and bleeding, grotesquely stitched together with a rough thread. He was trembling, pale with long black hair laying damp across his scalp. "Oh… bloody hell…" She cursed and then cursed again as she heard footsteps along the alley. Boots, she reasoned, presumably the secret service. They were in trouble if those boots found them here, but then again, this man looked like he was in enough trouble as it was. The sky cracked again. Oh, she was going to be in so much trouble. "Look, we don't have much time. My flat is just up the alley and I can't carry you. Do you think you can walk, by any chance, and we can get you sorted out there? Or I can try to get you sorted out?"

The pained eyes softened for a moment and the weak man nodded and struggled to his feet. She dashed forward to support him by the arm as he stumbled. He was dressed in what could only be described as regalia. ("Outlawed regalia," her mind screamed but she shushed it with a sharp nod of the head.) He was dirty and sweaty and clearly in pain, but he was covered in black leather and emerald green fabric lined with gold. She figured he would look powerful if he weren't so ragged. He was watching her with a fiery intensity. He nudged her shoulder and glanced down the alley. The boots were drawing closer.

"Right. We have to go." She pulled on his arm. "This way. Don't make a sound." His eyes narrowed and hers widened. "I'm so sorry. I didn't… Let's just go."

They walked down the alley at a quick pace. The rain was threatening to fall. The stranger stumbled several times and at one point he didn't regain his footing. The girl pulled at his arm and urged him upwards. "Come on!" He was shaking again. "Oh you have to be hurting so badly, I know, but please… it's just a few more meters." She heard the men at the end of the alley and closed her eyes. "Please. You can't stay here. They'll kill you." He started to regain his footing and she cheered, "Yes. All right. Almost there."

The next few meters passed slowly, but she drug him into her apartment door just as the rain started. She closed it and locked it with the dead bolt and two slide chains. The man was breathing heavily and had collapsed on the floor next to the door. She leaned against the door and listened. The boots passed by out front and when she heard their echoes fading she started to breathe easier. The man was whimpering now. "Oh God." She gasped again and hit her knees in front of him. "Let me see if I can," She reached up to touch his chin but he twisted his face away from her. "How long? Who did this to you?" He narrowed his eyes again and she realized how stupid it was to keep asking him questions.

She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear and stood to retrieve a towel from the kitchen. She filled a bowl with hot water and retrieved a smaller second bowl. From the bathroom she retrieved her first aid kit and a pair of sharpened scissors. She lamented not having any medication to give the man, but times were tough. When she returned to the entry her stranger had positioned himself against the wall. He was still trembling.

"I know this is going to hurt something awful, but you've got to get that taken out before the wounds have any more time to heal around the thread." She reached up with a gentle hand and cupped his chin, turning it towards her. He didn't flinch away. "No. I don't have any formal training in this stuff, but nowadays everyone knows how to do a bit of at home surgery." She took the towel and dunked it in the water and squeezed out a bit of the excess. "Oh, I'm so sorry…"

She wiped the blood off of his chin first and then wiped around the thread. His legs thrashed wildly. "I know…" She whispered. "I'm sorry." Picking up the scissors, she cut each of the thick threads that bound his swollen lips. He winced and moaned and when the last thread was free he tried to scream. "I'm going to have to remove the threads now, but I'm going to try and do it slowly." She wiped away the blood that had streamed down his face with the towel that was slowly tinting red. "Would you like a moment to rest first?" He nodded as he flexed his trembling hands.

They sat in silence for a while, but eventually she spoke up. "Whoever did this to you… they were awful." She ran a hand over his hair and he closed his eyes, shaking his head. "You can't think you deserved this!" The exclamation made him jump and she apologized by patting his hair again. His eyes had filled with tears. She wiped them away with her thumb. "Then I bet you're wondering why I'm helping you." She said softly. He nodded. "I haven't even introduced myself, Eloise, by the way, but most of the people around town just call me El. Simple to pronounce and all that. I'm rambling… anyway, I was just walking home from work and there was this light and then there you were. I don't know where you came from."

"Anyway, I've always been a sucker for fixing things. Things are so broken now…" He tilted his head to the side. "You really don't know, then, do you? About everything that's happened since New York and New Mexico and New York again… always seems like it's the major cities really… but I think the last time in New York really set it off." She picked up the tweezers from beside her legs. "Best get started on that, I think. I'm sorry…" With care she pulled on the first knot. He moaned loudly and the thread popped loose along with a fresh rivulet of blood. She dropped the fragment in the bowl and reached up for the next.

Slowly she removed each fragment of thread from his upper lip, cleaned the blood that flowed from the wounds and wiped his tears. He screamed and thrashed and clawed at the ground with bony hands. What agony this must be, she thought, what agony she must be causing this man. "I can talk to you, if you prefer, while I do the rest…" The man nodded weakly. "And I'll take it slow, okay?" She wiped his mouth again.

"It started after New York, like I said." She sat across from him and looked around the small flat. "With the aliens and the hole in the sky. The Avengers, everyone was calling them. It was great for a while. Really." The man's eyes had gone sharp at the mention of the superheroes. "Anyway, they saved the world, and for a while the world was grateful, and then like people always do, they got greedy and scared and violent." She reached up with the tweezers and began removing the threads along his bottom lip. He twisted under her touch but listened intently.

"The world demanded we surrender The Avengers, but America's government refused. Things broke down remarkably quickly. Embargos were placed on our trade and it was only weeks before the oil went into crisis state and the government put out rations. Of course, people panicked. They demanded the Avengers be turned over so the embargos would end." Another two threads gone. "Heroes became the enemy. Public attacks on anyone wearing a costume, they were so common back then. So much death. The government was losing control because it wouldn't relent…"

"And then, as if our luck couldn't have gotten any worse, all hell broke loose in the cities. Rebel groups from God knows where who though they would make a better government, and this time there were no heroes to save us. The Avengers were gone. Everyone was gone… dead." She kept dropping bloody threads into the bowl. "The government fell, and a new government rose in its place, a worse government." She had gotten to the last two threads, the first and most deeply embedded from the tension. "They came preaching peace and serenity and instead they brought terror and fear. We're living in a regular Orwellian dystopia I figure." She removed a thread and he screamed again. She kept talking.

"I don't know how far it's stretched, anymore. They've cut us off from any outside news. Imposed curfews, rations, new laws. Everyone has to look the same, act the same, obey or face punishment. Anyone facilitating a 'superhero' or attempting to become one would be killed on spot. Vigilante warriors will not be tolerated." She mocked the phrase she'd seen plastered on so many street corners. "Everything's changed…" She said, "No heroes. No hope." The last thread dropped into the bowl and the man slumped forward.

"All right… it's all right. We're done now. Let me just clean you up." She lifted his head ever so gently and cleaned the wounds around his lips. They were swollen and hot and bleeding, but they would heal. His eyes never left her face. Tears had dried on her cheeks and when she made eye contact with him a fresh wave of tears fell down her face. "Oh, so much pain." He worked his lips, face contorted with the effort.

"Thank…." He said roughly, breathing deeply. "You." She pulled away and wiped her tears with the back of her hand, staring at the red tinted water in the bowl.

"I don't even know who you are." She said suddenly. "You're dressed like a criminal and I've taken you into my house. You fell out of the sky…" The realization of what she had just done crashed upon her like a wave. "You fell out of the sky. Oh God…." She put her hands against her face and backed against the entry table. "What have I done? They'll kill me if they find you here."

"And… yet you… still…. saved me." His breath was ragged. She jumped up and took the bowls the kitchen and rinsed the blood down the drain, tossed the threads into the trash and put the towel in the hamper. When she returned to the entry she had composed herself.

"Well, it won't do us much good if I don't get you out of those clothes. I've only got rations for one, but I suppose we can share that. Give it a few days for the latest riots to calm and then I'll figure out what do with you. Come on, get to your feet, all right? You have to be exhausted, I know I am." She helped his shaking body to his feet. "Loo's this way." She guided him down the hall and towards the toilet. "There's a shower but you can't run it this late without asking for trouble, so you'll have to settle with the water in the basin. I'll try to get some clothes that fit you. Give me ten minutes."

She left the stranger sitting on the toilet and stepped out. The man removed his emerald cape and vestments, then eased the black tunic off of his chest along with the pants. He surveyed his thin body and bloodied face. He was lost in thoughts and then the woman knocked on the door. He turned towards her and she nodded. "Borrowed these from a neighbor who owed me a favor. Should be about your size." The man took the trousers and shirt from woman. "I'm sorry if they're not up to your standard." She motioned to the leather and he began to slip the cloth over his body. When he had dressed she turned around and observed him in the new clothes. "Standard uniform for the Citizen's Republic."

The man swayed on his feet. "I need…" He breathed again. "Rest." It hurt so much to move his mouth.

"Yea. Me too. The bed's through there. You can have it tonight, you've been through hell, but don't get used to it, Mister." She pointed a finger at him and then her face softened. She took his arm and walked him through to the bedroom. The stranger sat on the bed and she examined his mouth again. As she backed away she looked at him with a critical eye. "I still don't know your name."

He looked up and swallowed. "I…"

"Yes?"

"I am… Loki Laufeyson…" He watched the woman's eyes widen. "Former prince…" He breathed and closed his eyes. "Of Asgard."

She bit her lip. "Loki… Like New York, Germany… that Loki? Well," She looked around the room. "There can't be that many of you. Oh God… you're the reason we're in this whole mess aren't you? What have I done?"

She shook her head. "Why are you here?"

"Banished." He barked out roughly. "Humiliated." Loki gestured weakly to his mouth.

"They did this to you? Your own people?" She felt fresh tears in her eyes and willed them away. "Then they sent you here?"

"Not purposefully." His words were slurred from the injuries. "I just… landed here. At your feet I suppose. The kind Midgardian who saw fit to save the banished prince. You should have left me to die." He spat the words and growled in pain, fists clenched at his side.

"No. No, I couldn't have done that."

"Why?" The strong exclamation startled her. "I was the one who started this, who facilitated this world you now despise." Talking was tiring and he leaned back against the headboard.

El rushed forward and sat on the bed. "No. If you are who you say you are…" Her head swam with the implication of it. "If you are who you say you are then you can help. Maybe restore some order in the world."

Loki laughed bitterly. "I am no hero." He said as he closed his eyes. El stood up and cracked her knuckles.

"Then maybe what we need this time is villain." She grabbed a ratty blanket from the closet shelf and shook it out. Loki was watching her intently again. "Lay back, now. We both need rest. Tomorrow we can sort this out." She covered him and smoothed his dank hair like a mother would. He tried not to turn away from her kindness.

"Why?" The question was softer. His finger clasped the blanket and his eyes shone in disbelief.

"Why what? Why am I kind to you?" He nodded and she smiled a soft smile. "You may have been evil, you may have caused evil things but…" She hesitated. "But you're not the only evil out there. And I don't think you deserve this." She motioned at his face and then walked to the other side of the bed. "Plus I told you, I'm a bleeding heart for people like you."

He was drifting, she could tell. "Thank you…" He muttered, stray bloodlines still running down his face. She pulled a pillow out of the closet and dropped it onto the wood along with a second blanket. El made herself a cot and then excused herself to the toilet.

With her face hidden in her hands she cried. She cried for the blood and the violence and the pain. She cried for herself and she cried for this stranger. The stranger identified as a madman. What had she gotten herself into? What would her parents have said? She allowed herself five minutes that was all she allowed herself anymore. Five minutes and then she washed her face in the basin and shook out her resolve to wrap around her like a cloak.

Loki Laufeyson was sleeping when she returned. "Sleep tonight, fallen prince who landed at my feet. There's a reason for this, that's all I know. We'll work out the rest in the morning."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Tense switch. I must have been out of my mind the last time I wrote, because it wasn't coming as easily this time. As a result, tense switch. Sorry if that bothers some folks. I may go back and try and fix Chapter 1 to match this and all coming chapters style. Anyway... lots of liberty taken in this chapter with the Nine Realms and Loki's personality. Definitely AU. Describes deaths in some ways, but nothing incredibly graphic. R&R, and enjoy!

* * *

The knocking in the bathroom startles El awake and she reaches instinctively for the hammer she keeps in her bedside stand only to have her fist find the hardwood floor. She remembers she was sleeping on a pallet, and then she remembers why. With a sigh she rolls onto her back and buries her face in her hands. She is laying on the floor because there is a stranger in her bed.

Not a stranger, she corrects herself, Loki Laufeyson. God of Mischief. Prince of Asgard. Villain of Earth. He had fallen at her feet with his mouth grotesquely sewn together and trembling in pain and she, being the empathetic idiot she was, had taken him into her apartment and tried to mend his wounds. "Oh hell…" She moans. They're criminals. If anyone ever finds out about Loki, "We'll be killed."

There's another knocking noise in the bathroom and then the sound of glass breaking. Glancing at the bed she realizes her guest was no longer sleeping. With another sigh she rolls onto her feet and stretches her back. It pops unhappily in several places but she ignores the protest. She resituates her hair into a bun at the base of her neck as she walks towards the bathroom, where she finds Loki standing alone.

He's shivering and there's mirrored silver laying around his feet. He's flexing his knuckles and scowling. She expects to see blood and glass from where he had obviously hit the mirror, but his knuckles are clean. He turns to examine her standing in the doorway. His eyes are cold and distant. He doesn't try to explain himself, so she just bends down and picks up the silver pieces, cradles them in her hands and walks over to the bin.

"That was my only mirror." She says with a sad smile as she drops the fragments into the trash. Her finger snags one of the edges and she curses as the blood drips from the cut in a steady line. Loki watches her, eyes focused on the bleeding finger. He looks again at his undamaged knuckles. He smirks, turns, and throws his fist into the wall.

"Hey!" El exclaims. "Stop!" The wall is thin and she knows that it will shatter under a strong blow, but to her surprise the wall remains intact and Loki's arm passes through with no resistance. He turns to El with his mouth distorts into something she imagines would be a smile if he weren't disfigured. As he is now, though, the wounds around his mouth pull open and fresh blood mixes with old dried flakes. It's all very unsettling. He pulls his hand back and flexes his knuckles again. There is a snake coiling in El's gut, she identifies it as fear.

"Look, I don't know what's gotten into you or why you're trying to destroy my things, but I'd really like it if you step out into the living room so I can clean myself up," She motions to her bloody finger which is now dripping onto the tile. "And then maybe we can talk."

For a moment, El wonders if he will refuse; she wonders what she would do if he did. Loki just maintains his distorted smile and bends down and to gather the leather vestments he discarded before walking away. El sits down on the toilet and grabs the thin cotton towel off of the sink. She applies a steady pressure to the cut and the blood slows, then stops. She washes her face with the cold water in the basin.

In the kitchen, Loki paces. He considers the girl, the Midgardian. He had frightened her. Good, she should be frightened, his mind screams. She should be frightened of the would-be-king. She shouldn't look on him with pity or care, she should tremble beneath this power. His power… When Thor had been banished, he lost the power to control Mjölnir; yet, Loki seemed to still have some power over magic. Perhaps not all hope was lost.

He is pulled from his train of thought by motion outside the kitchen. El ambles down the small hallway with a medical case in her hand. Her own finger is bandaged. Loki lifts a thin hand to his mouth and feels his hot, swollen lips. His fingertips come away with blood on them, and he scowls in disgust. He should be healing faster than this…

She sits the first aid kit on the counter and leans back against it. "I really need to look at your wounds today." She says softly, her voice displaying no evidence of the fear she felt in the bathroom. Loki ceases his pacing and stands in front of her. He is taller than she is, and so she directs him to a chair. Once seated, he has to lift his chin so she can examine him. She documents his thin face, all angles and bone, and his eyes that are a stunning mix of green and gold, just like the vestments that lay on the table.

El takes an antiseptic cloth from the kit and opens it. "This will sting." She says by way of apology before she wipes the cloth over his mouth. He notices her touch is not gentle like yesterday, but it is not cruel either. Though it hurts, he refuses to close his eyes and instead studies her face. She is not beautiful, but she is not displeasing by Midgardian standards. She is… plain. She doesn't have the build of a warrior, but she is not fragile like a Lady of Asgard. Loki has never had need nor want for women, so he is leery to judge her too quickly. He will form his opinion of her when he knows what she can provide for him.

When El is satisfied that the blood had been cleared, she throws the towel away. "It will heal. Eventually." He bows his head in thanks.

When Loki looks up again, she is staring at him, her arms crossed over her chest. He is reminded of when he and Thor were children and their mother would lecture them about their trespasses, explaining how some mischief was best kept in their minds. Thor would always listen with rapt attention, Loki pretended to listen but he favored discerning pictures in the patterns of the marble tile.

El is still watching him. Loki seems unwilling to provide any more information than explicitly requested, so she asks, "What are you?"

He seems a little disappointed in the question, like he was expecting more. "I told you…" His mouth still hurts, and his voice is rough from screaming, but he can speak. "I am Loki."

"Yes. I know that's your name… But what are you? That trick in the bathroom? Breaking my mirror? What's all this about?"

"Did they tell you nothing?" Loki says finally, staring at her with disbelieving eyes. "I am a god among men…" She rolls her eyes and smirks. "You doubt me?"

"You were sniveling at my feet yesterday. Gods don't fall that far. Who would do this," She motions to his disfigured mouth, "Who would do this to a god among men?" The chair clatters to the ground with the force of Loki standing

"I was rightful king of Asgard!" He roars. "I had the power to rule your pitiful world in my hands." He clenches his fists together and El slinks back towards the counter. He closes his eyes and she watches a shimmer appear around him. His vestments materialize around him, clean and new. He stands in all his glory. His hair is clean and his eyes are bright, shining with a fire she hasn't seen before. He is taller, still thin, but he towers over her. The wounds on his mouth, still garish, add to his menacing visage.

She realizes this is the Loki who has murdered, this is the man who could have ruled the world. The snake of fear in El's gut hisses and coils upon itself. "Do not take me for a conjurer of cheap tricks, Midgardian." He says, disfigured lips millimeters from her ear. She can feel his hot breath and it makes her shiver. The snake hisses again. "You may have saved my life, but do not think that I am indebted to you, girl."

Later she will wonder exactly why she did what she did. For now all El can feel is the sting of skin on her palm, and she can only hear the echo of the slap in the small kitchen. Loki looks stunned and angry and pained. She takes advantage of his silence. "I did not ask you to indebt yourself to me, Loki." She steps forward twice and he steps back against the tumbled chair. "But as it is, I kept the police from shooting you in the head. I am sheltering you, a criminal, from those who seek to take you down. I am putting my life on the line to do so." She accentuates each "I" with a stab of her finger on her chest.

"I would not dare ask you to treat me as an equal, but you will treat me with a bit of respect." Her momentary lapse in fear falls through and she feels the snake recoiling in her stomach and her hand is shaking. She drops it to her side to hide her body's betrayal of her cowardice. Loki, still taller than her but no longer towering over her, smirks.

He should have known she would have some fight in her. He should have known she wouldn't be so easily bullied. "Oh…" He laughs a quiet laugh and rights the chair he knocked over. "This will be very fun."

* * *

"Fury, the leader, was the first to go." Loki and El are sitting at the kitchen table. The earlier confrontation has been forgotten in favor of some hot broth and information. She goes on to tell him about how Fury's direct dismissal of the Council had made him a government enemy, how they called for his immediate release from SHIELD. He held out for three years, but he was doomed from the start. SHIELD was working against him from the inside, his only truly trustworthy agent killed in the New York attack. In the end it was a woman named Hill who shot Fury in his sleep. SHIELD and all SHIELD programs were turned over the Council.

The two rogue agents, Barton and Romanova, went into hiding.

By the time Fury was dead, the government had called for a ban on all vigilantes, superheroes, and costumes. There were bounties out on the heads of Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, and Bruce Banner. Hundreds of rebels who tried to stand with the superheroes were murdered in the streets. Blood and brains, even behind masks and capes, were still not safe from bullets. Food was scarce, violence was rampant.

El falls silent for a moment. She drinks a glass of water and Loki doesn't speak. "They found Barton and Romanova trying to cross the Canadian border. They were shot on sight. That's what the news report said anyway." She shook her head. "After that, I couldn't keep track of the deaths. I didn't want to. So many people died, but they made sure that the Avengers were public examples."

"Tony Stark. Died protecting the only woman he ever loved. They ripped whatever was keeping him alive out of his chest. It didn't kill him instantaneously, no. They had just enough time to blow her brains out. Used the whole thing as a propaganda ad… a video of the brave hero, and the light that leaves his eyes. Her blood on his face. Then death." She shudders. "This is the price that is paid for vigilantism."

"Rogers and Banner were the only two left, because Thor was back wherever he was from. For a year, no progress." Another long drink of water. "Then they finally found Rogers in California. By this time the government had fallen, so the stars and stripes weren't exactly rallied around anymore. They strung his body from a flagpole, supposed to have been funny, I guess." She's speaking in a monotone, not crying or angry. "Banner couldn't cope with losing everyone. The Hulk made an appearance in Chicago. Tore down the Museum District before they could subdue him. You can't kill the Hulk? Did you know that?"

She shivers and then looks Loki straight in the eyes. "But every month they try, and we have to watch." The god sits stone still, saying nothing. "After Banner, hope was gone. Children stopped believing in heroes, adults did too… the heroes were dead. So many people dead. Those of us that are left, we're just trying to make it all work. Keep our heads down and hope that something, somewhere changes."

A pregnant silence stretches between them. She stands and rinses the bowls for the broth in the sink. "What about your family? Your parents?" He says finally. She closes her eyes and exhales from her nose. The memory is thick, like pipe tobacco smoke, in her mind.

The uprisings started in the cities. El remembers watching crowds of people march down the street in front of her flat. She remembers the frantic, hushed call from her mother. "I love you, Eloise." Her mother had said. Her father was arguing with someone at the door. She could hear him over the phone. "I don't care what the government wants, I'm not going to become part of your violent plan."

"Sir," Another male, probably a guard. "You will both come with us willingly and assist in our research, or we will force you."

"I'd like to see you try." A gun cocks in the background. Her mother whimpers over the phone.

"Keep your head."

They are the last words that she ever hears her mother say. The two gunshots are swift and perfunctory. The man from before is walking through the house. She hears him laugh and another man says, "SHIELD will have wanted his intelligence."

"They can find someone else."

At the sink, she drops the bowl too hard and it clamors on the stainless steel. "They're dead. Both of them. SHIELD killed them because my father refused to help research some new concept of theirs. It was a pointless death." The bitterness in her voice is apparent now. "I've been trying to keep my head. Was doing a damn good job of it to until you fell from the sky."

Loki process this information and then, like lightening, the thought strikes. "Your father. What did he study?"

She turns from the sink to stare at him. "Is it important?"

"It may be. What did he study?"

"He had a doctorate in physics, studied relativity, space-time. He was always going on about it. After the first event in New Mexico he joined up with a collaboration investigating the…"

"The Bifröst." Loki says over her. "A portal, between the realms. You said SHIELD agents killed your parents?"

"Yes…" She is still confused.

"Why would a government against vigilante heroes allow SHIELD to continue research on the Bifröst?"

El ponders this. "You think that SHIELD is working with the new government… or," She crosses the floor to the table and puts her hands flat. "Or the government is SHIELD."

Loki nods and then says, "If SHIELD controlled the Bifröst that would give them a distinct advantage over the realms."

"But, don't they have their own Bifröst?"

"Asgard's was destroyed." She shoots him a curious glance. "It was very much an accident that I landed where I did, here on Midgard, after floating through the void of space. As it is, I know nothing of the other realms' portals. Midgard could branch into the nine realms and attempt to conquer if they were so motivated."

"You said attempt?"

"SHIELD may be able to activate the Bifröst, but they have no weapons or strength necessary to attack. Those on Vana-heim would see them coming and put up appropriate defenses. They would freeze in Nifl-heim and burn in Muspel-heim. Jötun-heim, ruined though it may be, is home to the frost and rock giants. No human can match their strength, nor can some gods. Alf-heim is full of light elves, but they will not welcome company and they are vicious when provoked. Svart-alfa-heim is home to the dark elves and they will be vicious even if unprovoked. They have great magic at their disposal. And if humans were to land in Hel…"

"I think I can imagine that one, actually." El says softly.

"What's worse, opening a Bifröst on any of these realms would alert them to the presence of Midgard, and they would assume that it is a proper call that the realm is ready to take its place among the Nine in battle."

"To fight? Why?"

"To die." Loki clarifies. "There would be no quarter. The weak realms fall into desolation, the strong survive."

She sits down and places her head in her hands. "Why?"

"Such is the way of the world." He waves his hand. "I have little care for Midgard's standing among the Nine. If they are constructing a Bifröst, if they can harness its power then I can go…"

"You are a disgraced prince." She says suddenly. "You have nowhere to go. You said you were exiled from Asgard, and what would the other realms want of an Asgardian prince? Seems to me like there might be political tension. Besides, you said opening the portal onto another realm would invite the war to us. No way, no one is going to let that happen."

"Do you not understand, you idiotic girl?" He smirks. "They are reaching for war, not scientific enquiry. They don't care about the fate of humanity any more than a horse cares about the ground on which it stamps. Your new government seeks power, and it seeks to keep its people subdued enough so that it can obtain it."

"Perhaps they have glorious visions of ruling the Nine, but even if they managed to conquer one realm, the All-father would stop them in their tracks. There is no throne for the men of Midgard, this battle you have already called upon yourself does not end in glory. There is no situation in which Midgard survives." He is breathing heavily and there is a dribble of blood across his mouth from moving his lips so much.

"Unless you stop them." El's voice drifts from her hands. He looks down at her with a sneer.

"Why would I care?"

"Because you know the consequences of questing for unattainable power."

"And this is supposed to ignite some noble cause in my heart?" He laughs.

"No, but it might gain you some favor from your All-father. You can't turn up on Asgard and expect to be welcomed, but if you were to keep Midgard from using the Bifröst then perhaps they would see goodness in you yet. Perhaps then you could go home."

His eyes go dark. He realizes she is right. He could return to Asgard, a selfish and risky act. He could remain here, in a failing world and be forced into a subjugated life. Or, he could upend the balance of power, and instead of claiming Midgard for himself return it to a rightful protector in a show of humility and redemption.

"I could not do this alone." El is watching him intently now. "And I cannot promise your safety, or the safety of the rest of the population of Midgard. People will die, innocent and guilty. Are you prepared for that, Eloise?"

She blinks twice. "You want me to help you fight? I'm not a fighter… I couldn't…"

"They killed your parents." He says sharply. "Murdered them in their house. Shot them down where they stood. They killed your heroes, your hope. They make an example of their deaths and they bathe in violence and blood."

Her mouth is a straight line. "Didn't you kill people too? Murder them and make examples of their deaths?"

"Yes. I would do so again if it were to suit my needs. I am no hero. I am motivated by my desire for power, for my rightful place in Asgard."

"And I'm motivated by?"

"A desire for revenge. The way your blood runs hot and your voice turns bitter when you speak of SHIELD. The way when you close your eyes you see Tony Stark's lifeless body. You see Bruce Banner's broken soul that just won't die. You said yourself you want to fix people, fix things… this is your opportunity."

"I won't kill anyone who doesn't deserve death." The snake is back in her stomach, hissing in fear and coiling in amongst itself. Besides the snake, though, there is another feeling. Determination.

"I would hope you never have to." It is a surprisingly kind statement. She swallows and then hands him a cloth for his bleeding mouth.

"Where do we start?" He wipes his mouth tenderly and closes his eyes to think. Finally he emerges from thought with a spark of an idea.

"I need to obtain a way of communicating with Asgard."

"Again, you were exiled. How is this helpful?"

"I do believe I need to speak to my dearest brother. It pains me to say that. He may not have the ability to come to Midgard, but he is her sworn protector. He may be able to guide us, and he has an intimate knowledge of Dr. Banner that will prove helpful."

"You plan on saving Banner from SHIELD?"

"I plan on using Dr. Banner against them, yes. I am not sure he can be saved."

"But if he can be, you will… right?" She hates the way her voice sounds like a small child's.

"If this is the lie you prefer to tell yourself." Loki stands and when El opens her mouth to protest he holds up a hand. "I will not continue to debate my morality with you." There is an authority in his town that she doesn't desire to cross. Her mouth snaps shut.

"SHIELD will be in possession of a very important piece of technology. Technology that I need before I can harness my own power to communicate with Asgard. We start there, and then, if we are lucky, we find out exactly what their plans are for the Bifröst." El nods.

There is a knock on the door, three loud raps in a perfectly timed rhythm. El's eyes widen. She realizes with a sinking heart that it is past two in the afternoon. She should have been at work at for an afternoon shift. She has not reported to her duty, and as such they have come for her.

Loki watches her face fall. He starts to question her, but she motions that he remain silent. His face hardens.

The knock sounds again.

Three loud raps.

Perfectly. Timed. Rhythm.


End file.
